


'Til Sunbeams Find You

by LateStarter58



Series: Everlasting Song: the Tom and Rosie story [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Babies, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 17:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: The Hiddleston family are in Mallorca while Tom is filming The Night Manager. Rosie wakes up, disorientated...





	'Til Sunbeams Find You

_Whump, whump, whump_

_What’s that noise?_

_Thudding heart – where’s the baby?_

Rosie felt frantically around on the covers. Nothing, just soft cotton under her grasping fingers.

_I fell asleep, oh shit, where IS HE?_

Tom’s name was almost on her lips when she remembered. They had finished the feed and Daddy took him to change and settle. Now properly awake, she flopped back on the pillow, relief and irritation mixing in her mind. She had done this a lot during those first exhausting weeks at home, when James Arthur was waking several times a night. She would put him down, tuck him in and then doze off, only to awake in a panic a few minutes later, convinced he was still on the bed.

_We’re in a new, an unfamiliar place - that’s why it’s come back..._

She lay there listening to the rhythmic beat of the ceiling fan. Usually it soothed her, lulled her, but not tonight. The rented villa was lovely, shady and fresh, with mountain breezes which cooled it further. Fans above wafted the air through the high-ceilinged rooms; the heat of the Balearic summer was not a problem here. Letting her racing heart slow, she reached out for Tom.

He wasn’t there.

_He’s still with James. Of course_

Reaching out again, with her ears this time, filtering out the soft thud of the fans and the croaking, clicking and whistling of the Mallorcan night, she could just hear his voice, speaking softly in the next room. All vestiges of sleep having left her, she slid off the bed and grabbing her robe, she tiptoed out to the landing.

_My men_

_Thomas William and James Arthur Hiddleston_

They were together in the rocking chair the owners of the villa had thoughtfully placed in the nursery. Lit by the soft glow of the nightlight, James Arthur’s little face was just visible to Rosie as he lay on Tom’s legs. He was staring up at his father, rapt.

‘Now, listen. This is important. I’m going to busy tomorrow. So I’m leaving you in charge again, alright, son? You’ll need to look after Mummy for me, OK?’

The baby made a few noises, waving his hands around then grasping them together, his eyes never wavering from the tractor beam of his father’s gaze. Blue-grey, identical, their eyes looked at each other.

_Man to man_

‘Good grief, I’ve become my father, haven’t I James?’ He chuckled. ‘I guess that’s what happens. So, as I was saying, important stuff… Your Mum, well, she’s a very special person, but you know that already.’

His son raised one eyebrow, stuffed a tiny fist in his mouth.

‘When you grow up, all being well, you will meet someone like her; one day.’ The baby wriggled, screwed his eyes shut; a grimace of discomfort crossed his face. He stroked his own chin, rubbed his chest with stubby fingers. A tiny whingeing noise emerged. Tom began to rock the chair very gently and soothed by the movement, James settled. His eyes were once again wide and fixed on his Daddy’s.

‘Pay attention. This is _very important._ When that happens, don’t be like your old Dad, James. Don’t be an idiot. Listen to your heart.’

Father and son; back and forth; up and down. The chair rocked; the wood creaked; the rails drummed almost silently on the rug, but James kept his focus on Tom’s face.

‘I was blind. I was stupid. She loved me without hope for so long. It breaks my hea-’

The baby gurgled and babbled, wriggled on Tom’s lap. He waved a hand, reached towards his father’s face. Rosie stifled a gasp of amazement.

_He feels your regret, Daddy. He wants to help. He wants to comfort you._

She could see Tom swallow hard, collecting himself.

‘If you have that steadfastness, you will go far, little man. As far as you want to.’

James grinned toothlessly at his father’s face, now closer as his voice dropped to a whisper.

‘Find yourself someone like Mummy, James. Someone to walk through life with. Someone who will hold your hand and love you whatever happens. However much of an idiot you might be. And all of us men can be colossal idiots, from time to time. _Even you_. Got that?’

Five tiny fingers touched a stubbly cheek.

‘Now, time to sleep, young man. You’ll need your wits about you tomorrow, and so will I.’

Tom lifted his son into his arms and straightened up, walking towards the window. The shutters were closed but the curtains were moving lightly in the wind that drifted down the hillside. Rosie ducked back away from the doorway, not wanting to be seen.

Not yet.

_‘Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’…’_

She smiled, leaned against the cool tile of the wall and bathed in the sound of her husband’s singing.

_‘…Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me.’_

An overwhelming wave of love for them both washed over her. Her whole world was in that room, her life; her love; _her family_. She could hear the paternal love in Tom’s voice; in his tenderness.

_‘Say nighty-night and kiss me…’_

There was a beat’s pause as she heard him lean over and put their son down in the cot. A sigh filled the room. It came from them both.

_‘… Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me…’_

Tom’s voice was drifting, softening, getting quieter. Rosie stepped, cat-like, into the room.

_‘While I’m alone as blue as can be…’_

_‘Dream a little dream of me.’_

Rosie wrapped her arms around him as she sang, her breath brushing his back. They began to sway.

_‘Stars fading but I linger on, dear, still craving your kiss…’_

He turned, taking her into his embrace, dancing her gently towards the door, stealthily, so as not to disturb their dozing son.

_‘I’m longing to linger ‘til dawn, dear, just saying this…’_

Her lips danced across his neck, making him shudder with want.

_‘Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you…’_

He felt rather than heard her rich voice against, _through_ his body. His fingers tiptoed their way up the skin of her back, lifting her camisole. He breathed as much as sang into her hair as they moved inexorably in the direction of their own room.

_‘Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you…’_

Heart racing again, Rosie surrendered to the feel of him, falling into his warmth as he scooped her into his arms and carried her back to bed. 

_‘But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me…’_


End file.
